NOTE: Characters are listed first in alphabetical order (after that I’ve put a line to separate it a little). Real people/non-characters are under misc with other characters (ones that I don’t write as often :))
Bolded numbers are a smut warning
Also I apologize for my older works they are sooo bad I’m probably going to delete them soon
Warnings: More teeth rotting fluff. Because Steve Deserves it!
Word Count: 2100+
Summary: Love has many different ways of expressing itself. One form, is the different ways you share a kiss.
A/N: Well here it is! The last part of the Kisses Series! I’m super sad to see this one end. It was so much fun to write. This took me a while to get to right, but I hope you guys enjoy the last part! Thank you for everyone whose followed to the end! ❤️❤️
The gif is not mine. Credit to the wonderful creator!
“Babe.” Steve called out into the apartment, his voice
echoing down the entry way. When there was no reply, he frowned and hung his
coat up on the hook beside the door. A pair of loud clinks echoed through the
hall, growing louder as it closed in on Steve. Stars and Stripes, their pair of year-old golden labs came racing down the hall to eagerly greet their owner
they hadn’t seen all day. Steve laughed and crouched low, hugging the two as
they barreled in to his arms.
“Hey guys! Where’s mama?” The two just wagged their
tails, bodies wagging side to side in his arms, unable to contain their excitement.
Steve chuckled and stood, waving for them to follow. “Come on, let’s go look.”
Oh man..seeing all these tour glimpses and there’s a song too and those of us who can’t go (i am literally at the other side of the world)probably we will never be able to listen to that song or see whatever happens on stage *internal scream*☺️
But most importantly never get to tell them that we love them and how much they mean to us too.
Chances are that this post will go unnoticed,but in case it doesn’t,those of you that are going there,please tell them how much all the beasts love them,even though we can’t be physically there and please hug them tight for us too ❤️
«In related Jared news, [Alec] Berg says that the audience will learn that he has “some skills that he had picked up when he had to learn how to survive on the streets.” How about a clue? “As Richard mentally and physically decomposes under the stress of his job,” he says, “Jared’s job of keeping him standing gets tougher.”» ~ [Source]
Maybe it’s the dark part of myself, but the thing that makes me the most exciting for season 4 is this quote. We know that Jared has a disturbing past, and, even tho he’s a nice guy and all, we all know he’s capable of some shady stuff. He hired a “click farm” by himself in order to help Pied Piper in season 3 and it seems that he’ll (somehow) betray Dinesh according to the teaser trailers for season 4. This fandom likes to point out how much a cinnamon roll Jared is, but everything has an equal dark side, including our beloved fave.
(I also hope Jared is included on the “sex” that everyone is promising for this season. I need to see some of that lanky ass.)
Requested by anon: Pt 5 of the seguin series? When’s that gonna be up? If you have a tl ofc!
A/N: Okay, first of all, I’m so sorry if it is awfully bad written, my English is not collaborating with me rn. I know that this episode is quite boring, but it is a linking one and next one will be better. Let me know what you think about it.
I look at piece of tape, a million thoughts going through my head. I’ve been staring at the sticky material so long that it feels that it will never come off my table. It’s almost four in the morning and I haven’t been able to fall asleep since I got back from the game, the small piece of tape screaming at me from the pocket of my jacket. It seems like I won’t be able to sleep until I make up my mind about Tyler.
The truth is, I don’t know what to do. I’ve read about how he is, or at least how people on the internet say he is, and I don’t know if I want to find out if they are right or not. But on the other hand I know that I will regret it if I don’t give him a chance since I’ve never felt so attracted to someone before. It is stupid, almost insane if you ask me, we’ve literally had one conversation and played one game of cards.
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?” I whisper to myself, not taking my eyes off the numbers.
Public humiliation? I’ve seen what people say about the girls he has hooked up with and some of it isn’t pretty. Him not being the one? Hey, you don’t know until you try. Heartbreak? Beautiful things come from hearts being shattered.
“Here goes nothing.” I say, grabbing my phone and going to the agenda and making a new contact, naming it ‘Potential heartbreak’.
“Hello.” I type, not sure what I should say. He doesn’t know my name, so I can’t just say hi, I’m (y/n). I’m about to just delete the whole thing and forget about it when I miss the erasing button and press the small arrow instead, making the message send.
“Oh, shit.” I say, dropping my phone on the couch and trying to get away from it, like it is a dangerous animal. Okay, there is not going back now… probably he will see a random message from a number he doesn’t know and just ignore it. Yeah, he will.
It is four thirty in the morning anyways, so worrying about it isn’t worth it until later. I get on my feet, grabbing my phone from the couch and walk to my room, hoping on my bed and getting under the covers. I’m about to shut my eyes close when my phone’ screen lights up. I have a text.
“Hello beautiful.” I read the words on the screen while my heart is running a marathon inside of my chest.
“Do you say beautiful to everyone that texts you?” I ask, biting my bottom lip.
“Not really. Only you and my mom.” His answer makes me giggle like a teenager.
“You don’t even know who I am.” I type quickly, not leaving the I’m-not-waiting-for-you-to-answer minute before sending it.
“Beautiful eyes, breathtaking smile, eye candy with that red dress on.”
“It doesn’t ring a bell.” I text, feeling my cheeks heat up because of his compliments.
The screen of my phone goes dark and there is no response for a couple minutes, making me sigh. Of course he has fallen asleep, it is incredibly late and he has played a game tonight, he must be exhausted. But I can’t help it but to feel disappointed, he has me all giddy and excited and he just falls asleep. I’m about to put my phone down when a new text goes to my inbox. It has a picture attached to it.
“You sure that it doesn’t ring a bell? Even a small one?” I roll my eyes, scrolling down to see the picture expecting some sort of meme or gif, but it is a selfie.
He is lying on his bed, the lighting is dim and he seems fairly sleepy. His hair is messy and his eyes are kinda droopy, like he is going to fall asleep any minute and he is fighting against it. He is also shirtless, allowing me to see the intricate patterns of his tattoos. And then I see it…
“PUPPIES!” I text, laughing as I look at the two labs laying on the bed besides him.
“Not the reaction I was expecting…” He texts back and I smile, turning on my bedside lamp, warm light inundating my bedroom.
I open up the front camera of my phone and point it at myself, trying to find a flattering angle to take a selfie. After a couple tries I take a decent one and send it to him. I entertain myself scrolling through instagram, waiting for his text.
“As I said, stunning.”
“You said beautiful.” Both of us texting back quickly.
“My memory played a trick on me, you are more beautiful than I remembered.” I am about to text back when I receive a second text. “That’s reminding me of something.”
Can I request a Bigbang reaction like the BTS reaction to their S/O accidentally sending a nude to one of the members? Thank you in advance! ❤️
T.O.P would be really skeptical that it was an accident. He wouldn’t necessarily believe that you’d send it to Seungri on accident and if he did he’d be condescending about it. When he found out it was because you had them under the same name (bc their actual names are the same) he’d be a bit more understanding. But that’s when he’d hunt Seungri down and make sure he didn’t see anything.
“Are you sure it was an accident?”
“You both have the same contact name..because you both have the same first name. I really didn’t me to.”
Taeyang would be understanding about the whole situation, you had explained how you accidentally sent a revealing picture to Daesung and he took it well. He’d be a bit uncomfortable having to go to Daesung and ask for his phone, it’d be even worse if Daesung saw the picture. The three of you would probably be uncomfortable around each other for a while after.
“Can you be more careful next time?”
GD would question everything. You, himself, and your relationship. They have mentioned before that he’s very picky when it comes to who he dates and so that would have a bit of an impact in how he reacts. When you had told him you accidentally sent something to Seungri he’d be questioning if it was really an accident. But seeing the panic in your eyes and your overall troubled expression as you apologized to him A LOT, he’d realize that it really was an accident and then he’d hunt down Seungri and practically fight the youngest member for his phone to make sure he didn’t see anything. If Seungri did happen to see something, that’s when the threats would come out.
“I swear I didn’t see anything.”
“You better have not, I’d kill you if you did.”
Daesung would probably think you were joking around with him and just laugh when you told him that you had accidentally sent a nude to Taeyang. When he realized that you weren’t joking, the smile that usually was always on his face was quickly gone and he went into full panic mode as he raced to take Taeyang’s phone from him before he could see the picture. When the entire thing blew over he’d probably tease you for it.
“Remember that one time you sent a picture to Taeya-”
He’d probably be terrified when you first told him that you sent a nude to Jiyong. Mainly because he knew that he’d probably bring it up constantly just to make fun of him. You had never seen him move so quickly. He’d be hauling ass to find Jiyong to make sure he didn’t see anything. If he did happen to see the picture he’d probably be a bit awkward but would smirk at Seungri and just let him delete the photo. Later on though, flirty Seungri would make an appearance.
“So now that it’s all over..can you maybe send the picture to me now?”
“Why are you like this?…fine.”
I started writing this at like 3 in the morning because I had a hard time sleeping so I’m sorry if this isn’t the best. I’m loving the requests though. I have a scenario request that I’m probably going to work on when I get home later. But here is thiiisss.
Summary: Hinami tries to deal with her sorrows through seeking Ayato out. Ayato can never turn away the girl he loves far more than he should. Two people with unrequited feelings, dealing with them in very different ways. Human AU. (5.5k words)
A/N: Morning after chapter! I’m going to turn this into a larger series, but the chapters won’t be out in chronological order I guess. There’ll be some Ayato and Touka scenes and Kaneki and Hinami scenes as well in future, something about Ayato and Hinami’s first time and how this started out and maybe more about the future and how Hinami starts to fall for him as well. The next stuff I’ll post is probably the deleted scenes some people are so thirsty for COUGHCOUGH. Please do reblog this and feel free to leave some comments!
Ayato swallows the lump that rose in his throat and he goes to the kitchen. She isn’t there either and while he pretends not to notice it, her bag that she normally places on the kitchen counter when she comes over isn’t there as well. Biting his lip, he walks over to the bathroom and knocks on the door.
“Hinami? Are you in there?” He waits for a short while, trying to ignore how the deafening silence is weighing down on his shoulders. He knocks again. “I’m coming in, if you don’t mind.”
The door isn’t locked. He doesn’t hear the sound of running water at all. There had been no reply to his call. He really shouldn’t be as surprised as he is to see the bathroom vacant. The clothes he had left on the shelf are no longer there, though the clothes she wore over to his place remained in the laundry basket, not that it is anything out of the ordinary.
He realises he feels more tired than upset. He walks out, taking another sweep of his apartment, softly calling out for her. There’s no reply, though he doesn’t expect one either. Throwing himself back down on his bed, he curls up into himself, burying his face partly in the duvet and partly in his arms.
It happened again.
He really should have seen it coming. The previous night was just too good to be true. Nothing really works out for him that well anyway– not his family, not his job and definitely not her.
Ayato closes his eyes and groans out loud. He can still feel the heat from his half of the bed, but the other half had gone completely cold, as if the person sleeping there had gotten out as soon as she can to make her escape. His mind replays the events from the previous night, trying his best to figure out where exactly things went wrong. She’d been the one to initiate it all, so why is she the one who’s missing right now? Hadn’t she been happy as well? Try as he might, his memories only conjure up happiness from both of them, obviously already tainted by his own biased recollections of the scene. He’d been too surprised and excited that he’d probably not realise anything off about Hinami, much less remember it.
I told you so. Somewhere, a voice sings at him mockingly– the same voice that kept asking him to push her away. She was doing it to make herself feel better after what he had told her while they were in the shower. He was the idiot who misinterpreted and build castles in the air of deluded fantasies of the two of them. None of them will happen now. They’re back in that routine. She’s gone now, but she’ll be back eventually when she’s upset again. They’ll fuck again. She’ll run off again. The cycle will start all over again.
And frankly, Ayato is tired. He’s been for so long, yet he can never turn her away and he can barely confront her about it. He’s hopeless, fatigued and undeniably miserable but there’s nothing he can do about it because he’s unable to bring himself to do something about it. He reaches over to caress the side of the bed she had slept on and he finds himself snickering as he pictures himself in the pathetic state he’s currently in.
So, I’ve got an idea to tide me over until TRR Book 2 is out. I’m going to go through each chapter and write a “missing” scene between Jo and Drake that I think should have happened but never did. This is my first “entry” in that series. It takes place in Chapter 7, at the chateau, after the skiing and before Drake heads out into the storm.
Word Count: 1349
Rating: PG-13? Some language? Eh? Meh.
his eyes, Drake rolled his head against the back of the couch and looked over
at Tate. She was smiling as she scrolled
through her phone, the screen illuminating her face in the darkness of Olivia’s
parlor. It was a real smile too, not one
of the fake ones that he’d seen her plaster across her face for the crowds and
everyone else. He didn’t know when he
learned to distinguish her real smiles from her fake ones, only that when it
was a real smile, he could see it in her eyes.
looked away, scowling. This wasn’t
good. He shouldn’t be familiar with her
smiles, shouldn’t know what they mean.
He’d been spending too much time looking at her, getting to know her,
and it was starting to affect him in ways that he didn’t like.
he sat up and stretched. “If you’re
going to keep waking me up, you at least have to tell me what’s so funny.”
looked up at him, then moved a little closer and held out her phone for him to
see. “This idiot.”
the phone from her, careful not to let his fingers touch hers as he did. A black and white picture of Maxwell covered
in a ridiculous hood and snow stared back at him.
“You took this?” he
asked her, unable to keep the surprise and admiration out of his voice. It was a great picture and captured Maxwell’s
goofy nature perfectly.
she smiled. “Right after I told him a
joke about boobs.”
Drake admitted, “you’re good.”
I ought to be,” she said, throwing one arm over the back of the couch behind
do you mean?”
studied photography for four years at NYU,” she said, cocking her head to the
side. “Did you honestly think
waitressing was all I’m cut out to do?”
thought much about it,” he said, but it was only half true. He’d thought about her a lot recently,
wondering what she liked and what her history was. But he’d forced himself to stop thinking
about that. The less he got to know her
Drake,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Give
a girl some credit.”
reached for the phone but he pulled it away, moving it into his other hand as
he started to swipe through her pictures.
Her eyes got wider, but she didn’t move as he took his time looking
through them. After Maxwell’s photo
there was one she’d taken of Bertrand, scowling and staring off into the
She’d captured a tiredness in his face, a worry that Drake
had never seen before. But what did the
illustrious Duke of Ramsford have to worry about, other than his idiot younger
is good too,” he muttered.
the best ones are taken when people don’t know you’re shooting,” she said
softly, then bit her lip and drummed her fingers on the back of the couch.
swiped to the next picture, stopping in surprise. It was a picture of Liam, sitting in a chair
somewhere and laughing at something she’d said.
. He looked half
embarrassed, but he was obviously having fun and willing to let her see the
relaxed side of him that he generally had to hide from the public. It was a shockingly intimate picture,
especially since there was something in his expression that Drake had never
seen before, something that looked an awful lot like—
his throat, Drake rolled his shoulders. “That
one’s nice too.”
He started to swipe again but she
stiffened beside him and reached out. “Okay, that’s enough.”
not done,” he muttered, holding it out of reach.
you are,” she argued, reaching for the phone again and grabbing onto his upper
bicep with her hand as she tried to pull his arm closer. “Hasn’t anyone told you it’s the new etiquette
not to scroll through someone’s phone without permission?”
Drake stated to say something else,
but Jo moved her knee so it was pressed into his thigh as he continued to
stretch for her phone. Shit. In two seconds she was going to be in his lap
and he realized, with a sudden pang of panic, that it was going to be the best
part of his day.
the phone back to her, watching as she quickly thumbed it off and shoved it
into her back pocket. She relaxed
instantly, brushing her short brown curls off her forehead. “Thank you.”
“What didn’t you want me to see,
Tate?” he asked her, frowning. A jealous
pang ran through him, filling his mouth with a bitter taste as he realized she,
like everyone else, was keeping him out.
It wasn’t even that he wanted to know what the pictures were of, he
wanted to know her, every part of
her, and she obviously wasn’t interested. “If you’re going to keep your naked selfies
She turned towards him, her mouth
dropping open in offense. “Are you
serious? Believe me, my naked pictures
are NOT on my phone.”
a him a minute to register that she’d denied keeping them on her phone, instead
of denying having them. He shifted,
wondering when Olivia’s parlor had gotten so damn hot and stuffy.
she continued, lifting her chin in challenge, “you’re the last person who gets
to lecture me on being closed off and secretive.”
looked away from her, frowning as he fought the urge to reach out and touch her
knee which was still just a few centimeters away from his. At that moment, one of Olivia’s servants
wheeled in the bar cart and he jumped up, determined to make his escape. “Whatever you say.”
Drake was at a safe distance, Jo shook her head and unlocked her phone, going
back to the photos. Glancing up at him again
to make sure he was still occupied, she quickly swiped to the next photos. The next twenty photos were of him, and he
didn’t know she’d taken a single one. She
hadn’t intended to take as many candids of him, hell, she hadn’t meant to take
any photos of him at all. But there was
something about Drake, something she’d noticed that first night in New York,
that made her desperate to photograph him. If she thought he’d allow her to do
it, she would have told him ages ago.
But at this point, she didn’t dare confess what she’d done. If he knew, he’d probably make her delete
looked at the last one, the one she’d taken that morning when they’d been about
to go out into the snow. She’d been
trying to take a selfie to send to her friends back home when Maxwell had said
something ridiculous and he’d laughed, a rare, genuine laugh that made her feel
like she’d had two shots of that whiskey he loved so much.
She’d switched the camera angle and got the picture an
instant before he stopped laughing and the snarky, jaded mask he favored so
much had returned. It had quickly become
one of her favorite pictures of all time, she realized. Not because it was a good photo, or because
it reminded her of a specific place or time, but because it was the only time
she felt like she’d really seen the true Drake.
He was funny, he was warm, he was…
She looked up. He was staring out the window, frowning and
watching the clouds roll in across the snowy landscape.
… not interested in her.
Sighing, she began to select his
pictures on the phone.
“Stupid,” she muttered, deleting most
of them, “stupid, stupid.”
when the time came for her to delete that morning’s picture, she paused, then
saved it and turned off her phone. She
knew she should get rid it, but couldn’t bear to part with it, not when that
picture was the closest she’d ever get to knowing the real man that she was
falling in love with.
I never thought I would be here. I never thought I would understand heartbreak and depression and this unfathomable amount of… whatever this is. I literally think I’m in the middle of some kind of mental breakdown from which I don’t know if I’ll ever fully recover.
I turn 37 tomorrow. It’s my own personal new year’s eve tonight. My new year starts in less than one hour.
But it’s not really going to change anything. Nothing is going to be different when I wake up tomorrow. I’m still going to be unhappy. I’m still not going to have what I want and need. I’m still going to hurt. And everyone else is still going to go on with their lives and I’m going to to be here with mine. With all these holes and this emptiness.
I wish I didn’t know this pain. It seems so stupid when I think of it in terms of explaining it, even though I can’t. And I know I’m not the first person to feel this. This is a very human thing. But I can still hate it, and I can still hate that it’s happening to me. There are plenty of people who will never have to feel this, and I hate that I have to.
I wish I could be happy for everyone. All of the people who have what I need. And I am, mostly. But after my initial feeling of happiness for them, there’s always that bitter hatred and jealousy and I hate it more than just about anything. I hate feeling like this. I hate myself for being so familiar with this feeling.
I just want to be happy. I just want to feel the things I only ever thought were exaggerations or complete fantasy. But now I know they aren’t. And maybe that awareness is the worst thing of all, because I know they’re real and I can’t have them. There have been times where they seemed within my grasp, but they just barely weren’t. And knowing it’s out there but there’s none for me is worse than the ignorance of never having felt it.
Anyway, here’s to 37 years. So much of that time has been spent in such emotional pain and I’m sad for my younger self, should she exist anywhere still. I’m sorry I’ve let things come to this. To my future self… I don’t know. I’m sorry I got us into this mess. I hope you’ve figured out a solution. For now I’m just not going to open myself to the thought of being happy. I’m not going to let myself feel euphoria. If I don’t have it, I can’t feel it when it’s gone; I can’t obsess about not having it because I now know that is very nearly the worst feeling I’ve ever felt. I can’t be jealous of those who do have it. I’m going to build a wall. I hate having to build it, but I honestly don’t think I can go through this again.
My mid-life existential crisis started out as fun and carefree and gave me a new ‘who gives a fuck’ attitude. Then things happened and I realized *I* gave a fuck. Too much of a fuck. And now I’m in this emotional mess, and I hate it.
I’ve been happy. I know I have the ability to be. But the things that make me happy always go away. Always. I guess that’s true for everyone, probably. But happiness is so fleeting for me that there’s no use in thinking it will ever last.
Aaaaaaaaaanyway i’m drunk and this is ridiculous and I may or may not delete it in the morning. Who fucking cares anyway. I’m not trying to impress anyone. Nothing matters and everything is temporary and I’m another year older and another year sadder. Who gives a fuck.
I really am sorry this is such a bummer. That I’m such a bummer. I wish I wasn’t. I wish a lot of things that will never be.
tl;dr I love you. Happy birthday to me. Thank you for still following my nightmare blog and caring about me. You probably like me more than I do, and that’s a pretty good birthday gift.
hi everyone!! i know i haven’t been consistently active since august and i’m so sorry! i started school (obvi) and i’ve been so busy! i was looking at my blog today and I really wasn’t feeling happy with how it looked, so i decided to delete everything and start fresh. i’m probably going to regret it by tomorrow morning, but hopefully i will be happier and more inspired to play and post after this! i started a new household that i really love and i really want to share them with you guys! i will be busy tomorrow so i’m not sure when i will get around to queuing up the posts, but just know they’re coming!! eventually my blog will get a makeover and i can’t wait! - e <3
hey i realized the other day that both the really emotional scenes in mop (nursey seeing his mom, dex being outed to his family) are told from dex's pov. i would love to see nursey's thought process in one or both of those scenes, if you're accepting prompts
…holy shit this has been in my inbox a looooooong time. I am so sorry.
Also, as an aside and a warning: Mechanics of Poetry was written and completed well before there was drama in the fandom concerning Nursey’s parents. Like. almost a full year before. So Nursey’s parents in MoP are not good people. This take on the scene is a direct restructuring of an exact scene from chapter 8 of MoP.
The game is on parents’ weekend, which is always a sore spot
for Nursey. He appreciates that Assumpta and Snowy, and Jack and Bitty, and
Lardo and Shitty have come up to more or less babysit the lot of them, he
really does. He tries to remind himself that this is the last year where he has
to go to a parents’ weekend sort of thing and remember that his own aren’t
“Hey all you family-less seniors,” Shitty says, dropping an
arm around Chowder’s shoulders and ruffling his wet hair after they’ve won the
game. “We should all go grab drinks.”
“Yeah for sure,” Nursey agrees, because drinks with the team
is way more his style, even if Shitty’s phrasing stings a bit. But Shitty gets
it, a little more than most of the others do. Shitty had the same category of
problem growing up – the son of a guy who went to Andover who was the son of a
guy who went to Andover who was the son of a guy who went to Andover and et
cetera until it sounded insane, while not actually being anything like his
“That’s my shirt,” Dex says, tugging at Nursey’s sleeve. It is
Dex’s shirt, because Nursey could never actually bring himself to buy a flannel shirt, but he’s a hundred
percent down with stealing Dex’s.
“Yeah,” he agrees, grinning at his boyfriend. Dex rolls his
eyes and pouts just a little in the way Nursey finds so cute. “What? It smells
Just something I’m never gonna finish now because I gave up on it. It was supposed to take place in between S2 and S3, and is about how the team suffers from Shiro’s disappearances and how Lance is trying to comfort them.
I only started with Pidge, and never finished so enjoy??
The first night Lance found someone up was in the hangars. It was Pidge, laying on the ground in front of her lion, messing with her computer. So Lance being Lance, nosed into her business, and looked over Pidge’s shoulder.
She was trying to hack into some Galran prison camps, pictures of three people put up top in the screen. Her two missing family members on one side.
Shiro on the other.
When questioned, Pidge admitted to staying up the entire week, but also arguing that sleep wasn’t important now that Shiro was gone. After a light scold, Lance had gotten Pidge to get off her ass and into bed. But sleep wasn’t the only thing Pidge needed.
Over the passing days, the youngest on the ship wasn’t exactly eating her morning goo like the rest of the team. Sure she would pick at it, sometimes shoving one or two bites in her mouth, but after that, she would just walk off to what Lance assumed was the hangars again.
It became a routine for him-
For both of them
Lance stopped the normal midnight strolls around the ship, and made time to check on the green paladin, picking at her to eat her food goo in the mornings and lightly scolding her about her sleep.
Eventually, she started to take care of herself again. She started to eat again, sometimes slept, but Lance was there to scold her about it.
And he was there when Pidge had a breakdown. In fact, he was actually the cause of her breakdown.
That’s all I have rn. I probably deleted some stuff but eh. Lance’s comforting was supposed to go in an order.
Pidge was suffering from another loss of a family member, and stopped eating and sleeping to spend all her time on the computer trying to hack as many Galra related technology as she could so she could find Shiro. Lance stays up at night specifically to make Pidge go back to bed, and in the mornings he would make her eat her breakfast goo.
Hunk wasn’t exactly close with Shiro at all, but he still misses his leader. The main thing that has him upset is how the rest of the team is reacting to the loss of their leader. Lance was going to help Hunk cook some stuff and find some alien ingredients that weren’t poisonous on planets that the castle would pass by.
Allura is worried about which direction Voltron would go down, and Keith’s leadership now that Shiro is gone. So like Pidge, she starts staying up at night looking for planets to free from the Galra Empire or she would be in the hangars bonding with the Blue Lion.Lance found out from Coran about her condition, and would once again stay up at night trying to comfort her// tell her that even though Keith was inexperienced and was taking the loss hard, Keith would become a good leader with time.
Finally Keith. Keith still takes care of himself, mostly eats, takes a short nap, then goes to either the training room or the hangars to bond with the Black Lion. He doesn’t speak at all, and is barely seen at all. Lance was going to be there when Keith finally had enough and would have a major breakdown in the training room while Lance just listened to him.
In the end, Lance would be tired as fuck, hungry since he basically gave all his food to Pidge, and would be feeling down because all of his friends were suffering and he feels like he didn’t do much to help the situation out, and has his own emotions bottled up and stuff.
Somehow the rest of the team finds out, most likely from Red telling Keith about it, and Keith is hella pissed about it. The team has this big ass meeting where they all just have a cuddle fest of some sort with Lance and they all do this sort of thank you stuff, then have a movie Marathon or something like that.
hiya Dr! Theres seems to be a bunch of different question taxes going on. Which is the most current/should be used?
Honestly, I have no idea what the ‘current’ one is, and I’m not sure I’m going to keep it up. There’s 120 questions in my inbox this morning, most are questions but a few are photo submissions or anecdotes. I don’t think I can physically respond to everything and everyone. I don’t have enough hours in the day, and I don’t have any creative ideas for a fun question.
I’m deeply flattered that so many of you follow me, and that I get so many questions, but even doing the ‘20 questions’ posts takes a lot of time and energy, and I’m just not sure I have enough of either to go around.
I will probably just have to go deleting questions that I can’t or shouldn’t answer well. I didn’t want to, but I think I have to.
And having extra asks for question taxes, or tagging them onto the end of questions (or vice versa) has just made everything confusing and takes more time that I don’t have right now.
So for the foreseeable future, there isn’t a question tax.
ya and it used to be even more so before the Armenian, Assyrian, and Greek genocides, the rise of Turkish nationalism, the depopulation & resettlement of Armenian and Kurdish villages, forcible resettlement of ethnic Greeks as well as pogroms to drive them out of Istanbul, and the exorbitant taxes forced on its minority populations to the point where many fled the country. Like…Turkey largely participated in population control tactics to ensure Turkish majority, it expanded its borders via ethnic cleansing and forced resettlement, and it purposely excluded many of its minority populations from its national identity. So idk what you’re trying to get at by claiming Turkey is a diverse country, and idk what that has to do with whether or not you can compare the country’s history to Israel’s or not. The point is, if you’re willing to go easy on Turkey like “ah well, they expanded their borders some, sure, but ya know they’re really diverse :3 “ but refuse to recognize Israel in any shape or form (especially when the majority of Turkey’s Jewish community emigrated to Israel as a result of oppression by the state), then it looks to me like your problem isn’t really with ethnic cleansing and violent oppression.
I normally don’t use Tumblr as my diary, because I feel like the people that are following me are not interested in, well, me. And that’s totally fine. But sometimes I have these days where I just.. I don’t know if I can do this. Everything is overwhelming me and I seriously think about deleting my works. About going back to the days where the only person reading my stuff was… me.
I’m sorry for this.
And I’m sorry for all the horrible drabbles I made you guys read. Like that dreadful Chapter 3 of ‘Tales of a burning heart’ I put up yesterday. I removed it this morning, feeling like it isn’t ready yet. I tell myself everyone hated it. Everyone probably does.
I was too enthusiastic, I guess. I don’t know. I just… I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve to be around these talented artists, writers. Most of the time I ask myself if I even am a writer. Who the hell am I to think I can do this? I’ve always been that average girl, people don’t remember me. So why should things be different now?
Today feels like this.
“I’m 14 and I stand in front of the classroom. My whole body is shaking and I’m having trouble keeping myself together. I take a deep breath and start to read my story, called “the key”, aloud. There’s this school competition for creative writing and I want to win. I want this so bad, because writing is my thing. It’s what I love to do. As I read, I try to ignore the bored faces of my classmates. My story is about freedom, about a girl who finds her way through this elaborate scary pyramid, but my classmates… Well, they hate it. There’s no applause. No recognition. I return to my seat, defeated. Maybe writing isn’t my thing. I don’t even hear the voices of the other kids who volunteered to read THEIR story too. All I can think about is my failure.
The voting starts. I’m torn between the choices. Should I vote for myself, or for one of my friends, the most popular girl in class? I choose her, because I don’t feel like I stand chance. She wins. In fact, she doesn’t only win this class competition. Her story is chosen as the best one from the whole damn school. I’m proud, but at the same time I’m feeling shattered because I got defeated by a story about a parakeet.
I vow never to write again. Maybe writing isn’t my thing. Maybe I don’t have a thing.”
At this point, I don’t know if I should continue writing on “Tales of a burning heart”. I don’t know if I should continue with “Enya’s unexpected journey”. My brain is in this downwards spiral right now and I tell myself my writing sucks. Maybe I should stop writing altogether. Maybe after all, it’s just not… my thing.